God, how crazy was it that only two weeks ago his biggest worry was whether his show had sold enough tickets for him to afford rent. It seemed Granddad had had a point—Cary did have a special knack for getting himself into trouble.
The basement door was locked, of course. But the lock on it was a simple one, and there was no latch on the outside, as far as he could recall. Picking it would be fairly simple, but the pockets of his Venetian uniform trousers were empty, save for that damn quarter Ty’d given him what seemed so long ago, and which he’d been carrying for good luck.
Cary took it out, its textured surface warm against his skin. Just a regular coin, Ty had said right before he was slammed off that roof. But why lie in the first place, telling Cary it was magical? And if it wasn’t, where had the magic come from?
Could Ty and Leticia be right? Did he really have that talent, or was it just another ruse, a part of some elaborate deception? It hardly seemed likely that he could be a magician. A real one, too.
He flipped the coin idly, guided by some half-formed impulse.
“Heads,” he whispered before it landed back in his palm, and crouched to look at it in the faint light.
It was heads.
Cary slipped the coin back in his pocket and stood up, a strange emotion tightening his chest. He could hardly compete with Sebastian or Leticia (or even Ty, for that matter) but maybe, just maybe, he had enough of a spark to help him out of a tight spot.
Well, there was only one way to test it.
He still needed something to trigger the lock from inside, and in lieu of anything else he could use the hard plastic tips of the zip tie. It was nowhere close to a pick, but when life gave you lemons, and all that.
His head pounded as he crouched opposite the door. He inserted one of the tips into the upper portion of the key slit and then pushed the other beneath it as far as it would go. He closed his eyes and concentrated, wiggling the lower tip in and out gently. What was it Ty and Sebastian had said about spells? The wording didn’t matter as long as he was focused on what he was doing. So Cary relaxed as much as he could, keeping his eyes firmly closed, and just…let himself feel.
The air around him was cold and damp, and the silence weighed down heavily on his mind, an oppressive presence that was disturbed only by his breathing and the scraping of the plastic inside the lock. But there was also something else there. Perhaps his imagination was running wild, fueled by desperation, but he thought he could sense the faint stirrings of that energy Ty had always been rambling on about. The force that held everything together. Like in Star Wars. Where was R2-D2 when you needed him?
Stop being silly and focus. He exhaled softly and focused once again, this time reaching out to find those barely-there currents in the air around him, thrumming just below the threshold of his hearing. Cary didn’t have a clear idea of exactly how he was supposed to utilize them, so he just pictured the invisible currents being redirected into the keyhole, adding some push to the edge of the zip tie.
“Open,” he whispered, willing the energy to flow to tip the mechanism. He felt almost foolish doing it; he was just talking to a door handle. But then there was a soft click, and as he angled the plastic tip, the door opened.
Cary had to pause for a second, his heart hammering wildly. He hadn’t really expected it to work. Not even after he’d witnessed true magic in play. That was for other people. He wasn’t…a sorcerer. And yet, the lock had opened, and the coin had landed right.
He shook his head at himself. It could all be nothing more than coincidence. It was possible to pick a lock with a zip tie, after all. Though perhaps not with such ease—
No. He didn’t have time to reflect on his newfound magical abilities or the lack thereof. Tony’s goons could come for him any minute, and he wanted to be long gone before they did.
Cary peered out of the door to check no one was standing guard outside. While it was unlikely, he wasn’t taking any chances. If there were any cameras, they’d probably be facing the perimeter. He had to be careful to avoid open spaces.
It was already fully dark, though it couldn’t have been later than six or seven PM, and nearly freezing cold. Not enough for it to snow, but enough for him to wonder whether he’d make it through the woods with only a torn buttoned-down shirt to keep him warm. The only light was coming from the windows and the driveway, making the place look like a picture from a rental brochure. He waited a few minutes to be sure no patrol was going to walk by and then slipped quietly through the door, closing it softly behind him.
A thick pine forest surrounded the house and sloped down almost to the water’s edge. Cary darted under the shadow of the nearest tree and huddled there, hiding behind the trunk and listening for any indication of an alarm going off. For all he knew, there was magical salt sprinkled around that basement, or some other such fuckery. But everything was quiet. No sounds came from the house despite the strong illumination, and there was only the rustling of the wind in the treetops, and the occasional hooting of an owl.
Cary had never been an outdoorsy person. He had no clue how to navigate his way through the forest without getting lost and freezing to death. He contemplated stealing a car from the garage, but the noise would hardly go unnoticed. No, he had to rely on his own two feet if he wanted to keep his absence secret for as long as possible. His best bet was following the winding dirt road that led away from the house, sticking to the shadows and undergrowth, and so he set off in that direction. He took a wide berth, creeping among the trees to avoid being picked up by cameras, and circled back to the dirt road beyond the reach of the driveway lamps.
As the fancy cabin gradually disappeared from view, hidden behind the rows of pines, the darkness became more tangible, like a living, breathing thing that lurked between the tree trunks, threatening to lunge at him the second he let his guard down. Cary kept looking over his shoulder as he trudged through the undergrowth by the side of the road. There were no signs of pursuit, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
It was just nerves, he told himself. His teeth were chattering from the cold, his head hurt, and his entire body was a tangle of sore limbs and bruises. He was hungry and thirsty, not having eaten or drunk anything since the day before. But he kept on, guided by a fickle rising moon that shone intermittently from behind the clouds. At least it wasn’t raining, and the air was crisp and clear, filled with the overwhelming scent of pine and wet earth.
Cary tried to count his steps, but he was stumbling too much over roots and brambles to keep track, and he quickly gave up on that. He didn’t dare making it easier by walking on the road itself. He would be too easy a target there. Keeping it just at the edge of sight was enough to maintain the correct course, even though he wished he could have been going much faster.
There were probably other cabins in these woods. Lakeside properties were very popular, after all, and even if Giordano had chosen a particularly secluded one, Cary’s chances of coming up on another house or even a small community were still rather good. Most of these were probably summer residences, and he’d have to break in if he came upon a cabin that had been closed up for the winter. But that was all right—he only needed to find a place with a working landline to call Ty. He knew the number by heart, and if Ty was alive and in possession of his cell phone, Cary had to warn him not to fall into Giordano’s trap.
The road went on and on for what felt like hours, though the position of the moon didn’t change much at all. Occasionally, Cary heard rustles that scared the bejesus out of him, but they all turned out to be some small nocturnal animal or other, scurrying along on its business.
Maybe there was some sort of magic that could be useful in these kinds of situations. A spell of disappearance, for instance, or teleportation. It was one of those things he should have asked Ty or even Sebastian about. He’d had this incredible opportunity to learn so much about a world he knew nothing about, but instead of snatching it up, he’d chosen to be distant and skeptical.
Served him right.
THE GLARE OF headlights somewhere up ahead took him by surprise. Apparently, with him being too caught up in his thoughts and trying to ignore the bone-chilling cold, Cary had missed the gentle curve of the dirt lane where it diverged from the main road that cut through the forest.
The car was approaching from the southeast, the rumbling of the engine crashing through the fragile silence. What were the chances someone would be traveling through this lonely portion of the forest at this exact moment? Even though there might be plenty of other luxury homes scattered along this stretch of the lakefront, it was hardly a heavily trafficked area.
Cary didn’t stop to examine this stroke of luck too closely. He stepped onto the shoulder, taking care to be visible in the headlights but not go far enough to be run over, and waved his hands frantically.
The car passed him. Belatedly—the cold and the hunger were probably making his brain numb—he realized the chances of anyone stopping for some crazy guy jumping out of a thick forest were even lower than the ambient temperature. He was already trying to figure out which direction he would have to continue on when the car slowed down and stopped a few yards down the road.
The exhaust fumes curled up, mixing with the diaphanous night mist and glowing in the car’s taillights. It was a white Honda Accord sedan. Something about it tugged at Cary’s memory, but then the driver opened the door and stepped out, turning to face him. A man, roughly in his fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimmed beard, dressed in a gray turtleneck sweater and black slacks. He definitely looked the part of a well-to-do local late for his solitary getaway weekend.
“Need a hand there?” he inquired. He moved with a noticeable limp and had to steady himself with a hand on the car door.
“Yeah.” Cary threw another look at the empty dirt path that curved behind him. There was still no sign of anyone following him. Thinking quickly, he decided telling the truth wasn’t the best strategy. Aside from his reluctance to give away too much to a stranger, he didn’t want to take the chance of said stranger going to the authorities with an abduction story. “My buddies pulled a stupid prank on me and left me stranded in the middle of the road. I, um, got lost without my phone. Is there any chance of you maybe giving me a lift? I could really use some help.”
There was a long pause as the driver seemed to take in Cary’s disheveled appearance. Despite the surrounding darkness, there was no hiding that he’d been recently beaten.
“Sure, get in,” the man said finally. He watched as Cary hurried to the car before getting back behind the wheel. “Lovely night, isn’t it?”
Chapter Eighteen
TY’S SLEEP HADN’T been disturbed either by surprise assailants or bad dreams. Thankfully, he’d never been bothered by nightmares. Perhaps he had too limited an imagination, or lower brain activity, but either way, he was pretty happy about it. He had enough shit to deal with while he was awake.
After waking up that afternoon, he’d made a few trips to get everything they needed to go through with their plan, including a change of clothes for Bas. They’d left all their personal belongings, as well as some of Cary’s things, in their respective rooms at the Venetian.
Ty had wanted to set out that evening and drive through the night, but Bas was still feeling weak after yesterday’s exertions, so Ty reluctantly agreed to give him more time to recuperate, pushing their departure to the middle of the night. He was too agitated to rest any more himself and resorted to chain-smoking while staring out of the window instead.
He was taking a hell of a risk waiting for so long. Tony might not be as patient, and it was Cary who was bound to pay the price for Ty’s overconfidence. But the board had already been set, and there was nothing more Ty could do, other than go through with his scheme and hope for the best. He had to, for Cary’s sake.
After taking turns in the bathroom and another quick shower, Ty and Sebastian went down to the car. Ty flipped on the radio to catch the late local news, but even though there were jumbled reports of a disturbance at the Venetian hotel and casino the previous day, no particular details (like a description of persons of interest or their vehicle) had been issued. All they had to do was keep a low profile and avoid any run-ins with the cops—which was Ty’s usual modus operandi.
“I need coffee,” Bas grumbled as he slid into the passenger’s seat.
“There’s nothing around here you’d want to drink,” Ty said, setting up the GPS. “There should be a gas station and a 7-Eleven a few miles down the road. We can get you something there.”
“Wouldn’t it be just the thing if it were my last day on Earth and all I had to drink was convenience-store coffee,” Bas bemoaned, slumping dramatically in his seat.
“Who’s cranky now?”
Bas huffed as Ty pulled the car out of the parking lot and headed for the highway. Ty couldn’t help but think back to the drive to Las Vegas, with Cary beside him. It already felt like a lifetime ago, the memories painted with guilt and nostalgia.
The darkness made it seem as if the road was stretching into nothingness. The stillness made it easy to sink back into his troubled thoughts. There had been a lot of things to do before everything was ready. Ty was familiar with the location he’d picked for the drop-off, but it had been years since he’d last been there. A lot could have changed since then, and the least he could do was learn as much as he could about the surrounding area online. No amount of Internet research beat actual reconnaissance, but there might not be enough time to do that properly, given they still had at least eight hours of driving ahead of them.
They ended up getting that coffee, although Ty would’ve preferred to skip it and just keep going. But he needed to fill up with gas anyway, so at least it wasn’t a complete waste of time. The coffee actually went a long way to calming him down, in lieu of a cigarette (Bas would flip on him if Ty tried smoking in the car). He’d been simmering ever since the phone call from AJ, and anger wasn’t the right mindset for handling a rigged hostage swap.
And there was another thing that had been bothering him for some reason, like an annoying mosquito buzz he couldn’t tune out even in the midst of the current shit storm.
“Hey, Bas?”
“Mmm?”
“What did you mean yesterday about me having an ‘ingrained Fae bargaining streak’?”
There was a long pause.
“I just meant you put a lot of weight on everybody getting their due,” Bas said finally, squirming a little in the passenger seat. He was examining his paper cup intently, avoiding meeting Ty’s eyes.
“I can tell when you’re shitting me,” Ty said, glancing sideways at him. “That’s not what you meant.”
“Okay, fine.” Bas put the nearly empty cup in the holder and looked at him. For once, his expression was serious, and Ty almost regretted starting the conversation in the first place, because he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer. “Just promise me you won’t freak out.”
“That’s reassuring,” Ty muttered. No, he was definitely not going to like it.
“I know why Leland took you in.”
“What?” Ty looked at him sharply. When Leland found him, he tried his best to teach Ty the basics of magic practice and, what proved to be more important, how to steal without being caught. Leland hadn’t been an easy man to get along with. He’d been a strict teacher, and compromise wasn’t his strongest suit. But during those years, Ty had a sense of stability, and he’d learned so much that he didn’t mind the occasional punishment. And Ty couldn’t blame Leland for eventually turning him out for failing to live up to his standards. “He told me exactly why he took me in.”
Bas sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Somehow it looked a lot less dramatic than his usual theatrics. “Yes, yes, the ‘spark of potential,’ as he used to call it. But it wasn’t just that. Lots of people have the spark, and in most cases, it doesn’t amount to shit.”
“No kidding,” Ty muttered under his breath.
“The real reason he picked you up was because he saw you were Fae-touched.”
“I was…what?”
“You were stolen by the Fae as a baby and returned to the human world when you were a little boy. Leland thought that made you special. Inherently magical, or some such nonsense—maybe even able to communicate with the Faerie world. You know how obsessed Leland is with everything Fae.” Bas threw him a quick glance and shrugged, as if he couldn’t fathom the fascination, even though Ty knew Bas was no less familiar with the subject. “In any case, he was wrong. You proved to be no different than any regular human child. That’s why he was so disappointed. He said that must have been why they’d returned you to the human world—because you were so useless they hadn’t even bothered raising you as a slave. His words, not mine.”
Ty gripped the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. He regretted starting this conversation in the car, because the white noise currently filling his ears was hardly conducive to safely driving at seventy miles per hour.
“How do you know that?” he asked. His mouth felt dry, and it wasn’t because of the over-roasted coffee he’d had earlier.
“Leland had come to me for help a few times,” Bas said. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “We used to be closer. You know, before he treated you like a dick. Anyway, he told me about it all one day, and—”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Ty cut him off. He wasn’t quite sure he believed what he was hearing—the part about him being abducted by faeries. It wasn’t as if it hadn’t been known to happen. He’d heard enough stories about changelings and people being carried off to the other realm. But he didn’t remember any of that. Wouldn’t he have retained some recollection of such a fantastic place?
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